Grateful for Snow

I really enjoy the snow.  I grew up in a part of the world where the first snowfall was usually around Hallowe'en, and there was still ice on the lake in May.  I have extremely fond memories of my childhood/early teen winters.

I remember the big hill in the woods at the end of our street where kids would gather  with wooden toboggans and crazy carpets.  There was figure skating in the backyard rinks and cheering on our high school hockey team (Go Warriors!) in freezing cold arenas.  One of my favourite memories was cross-country skiing through fluffy powder while blue shadows stretched over the moonlit snow of our only golf course.  We had bonfires at our camp on the frozen beach, while the cold air intensified the savoury aroma of Maple Leaf hotdogs and scorched marshmallows.  We went power tobogganing (that's what they called snowmobiles in the early days), with my parents and their friends who brought along suede covered wineskins and thermoses of hot chocolate.  There were winter saunas and jagged holes in the ice filled with black water that the braver/crazier/Norwegian people jumped into.

 I recall making snow forts with my sister and the routine required to get ready to go out and play...corduroys and a turtle neck, pant legs stuffed into grey knit socks with a red stripe around the top.  You pulled a hat over your head, lay your quilted snowsuit on the floor and slid into one leg while your Mom zippered you up from the bottom of the other leg, right up to your chin...ouch that pinches!  Then you struggled into your boot liners, warm and toasty since they'd been sitting on the furnace vent since the last time you were out. Mom helped you into your boots and wrapped a scarf around your neck a half dozen times.  If it was really cold, she'd wrap it across your forehead too.  She pulled the hat down over your ears, tucked you hair in and helped you with your mittens, pushing them under your sleeves.  Once you were outside, it wasn't long before they came untucked. By the end of the afternoon balls of snow were stuck to the wool and you could no longer ignore the stinging red strip of skin between your mitten and sleeve.  That was how you knew when it was time to go in.

When we moved to Kelowna where it snows from December to February, (if you're lucky into early March), I made my husband promise that in the years when the snow fall was light, he would take me up to the ski hill, not to go skiing, but just to walk in the snow.  I do love the snow, and today I'm very grateful for all we've received in the past three days.  There was a snowfall warning this morning and depending on which radio station you listen to we're due for 10 to 15cm today.  *Sigh*.  I'm in heaven!

I'm also grateful for my amazing neighbour, who snowblowed my driveway while I was out grocery shopping this morning.

I'm grateful that even though the roads hadn't been plowed at 8 this morning, it was fairly easy to get around as long as you stayed below 40kph.  

I'm grateful I did my grocery shopping this morning so I can enjoy the rest of the day without worrying what the roads will be like later.

I'm grateful I have snowshoes which I plan to wear when I take the dogs up the hill later today.

I'm grateful that we are blessed to have so many things available to us to enjoy the winter weather and keep us warm and toasty inside when it's not so enjoyable.

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